The Thoughtcrime Revolution
by Azecreth
Summary: Airstrip One, Ingsoc, Thought Police. Staples of this world.But there are ghosts in the machine, and Winston Smith finds himself drawn into a war for humanities freedom.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to the Zion Archives

You have selected Historical File #14, the Second Matrix.

In the years following the victory of the Machines over Humanity, massive spires were built, each containing human bodies as an electrical power source in substitute for the unavailable solar power they had used before the humans blacked out the sky. However, for their system to be most effective, the human mind had to be active. Keeping humanity in a comatose state would severely reduce the power at their disposal, while awake humans would try to escape.

The Machines turned to a third option as their solution, the creation of an artificial life for humanity, a virtual reality where man could live out his life without knowing he was in bondage.

The first Matrix was a perfect utopia, a world without violence, poverty, disease, a world where no man lacked for anything, and all men were brothers. It failed, due to what the Machines believed was Man's inherent inability to accept a world without suffering.

For their second attempt, the Mach8nes chose a more historical model. Looking through the annals of human history, they analyzed his tendencies, his predispositions. In the end, they created what would be considered a model dystopia, a culmination of the ideals of Hitler, Stalin, and other dictators throughout human history.

They created a world divided into three superstates, each at continual war with each other, each alike in ideology and strategy for control. Poverty was the norm, and the Thought police crushed all forms of dissent.

But also, in order to not let themselves stagnate like they believed their creators had, the Machines created an enemy for themselves. They released a group of humans from their control, and drove them to a city that had been created especially for them to fight with, a city called Zion, to play the role of a Resistance against them.

For more historical information, an account of Winston Smith, a man who helped bring down Big Brother and the Second Incarnation of the Matrix, a man who helped bring the redemption of both Man and Machine a bit closer, will now be played.

To prevent the playing of this account, please exit this screen now.

/Execute Historical File #14-1

* * *

A/N: This was ported over from , where I wrote it. Enjoy.


	2. Chapter 2

Winston sat in the bed that was in a room above the store run by Mr. Charrington. He had rented this room to have a safe place, where he could get away and be with his love Julia for just a little bit. He looked at Julia with a feeling of contentment as she sat in the corner preparing tea, although the water had gone cold. Down in the courtyard, a woman was washing clothes while singing a drabble of a song, one of the pieces of garbage produced by the Ministry of Truth every day, but somehow this one had outlasted the Hate Week Song.

Slowly Winston rose from the bed and stepped over to the window. As he looked down at the singing woman, Julia moved beside him.

"Look at her," whispered Winston. "Despite all her years of toil and labor, she's still beautiful, in her own way."

He looked at Julia lovingly, but before he could go on, they were both startled by a buzzing noise that seemed to come from a nightstand drawer near the bed. Cautiously, Winston walked to the nightstand and quickly opened the drawer. Inside there was a small black object, which was making the buzzing sound by vibrating on the wooden bottom of the drawer. Warily, his hand trembling, he picked it up. As if sensing his grip, it snapped open, causing him to jump in surprise. Julia moved beside him, and they saw two speakers on opposite ends of the extended object. Winston put the top speaker to his ear and listened.

"Mr. Smith."

Winston's head jerked back as a voice came from the object. It was apparently some sort of telephone, although it was unlike any phone that Winston had seen.

"Yes," he replied uncertainly.

"Do you know who this is?"

"Yes." There was no denying who Winston was talking to. That voice was heard by every person in Oceania every day, a voice heard and reviled. "Goldstein."

"That's right. Now, the Thought police are coming for you. I assume you are not surprised. In fact, I believe you have been expecting them for a while. Nevertheless, we need you Smith, so you will need to get out of there. If you're wondering how they knew, there is a telescreen behind the portrait of the chapel on the wall. Don't run downstairs, Charrington is a member of the Thought Police."

Winston felt the beginning of panic to form within him. He could know instinctively that everything Goldstein had said was true. Glancing at Julia with a concerned look, he asked, "What should we do?"

"Go to the window and open it."

Winston walked over to the open window with Julia.

"Now, jump out the window, and go into the courtyard. One of my people will meet you there."

Winston held the phone to his ear as Goldstein's voice was replaced by silence. He snapped the phone shut and put it in his pant pocket.

"Julia, they are coming for us. We have to get out of here, and to do that we need to jump out this window. I'll go first, then you jump and I'll catch you," said Winston as an iron determination to cling to life formed within him.

"I will follow you wherever you go," replied Julia calmly.

Winston nodded and got out onto the window ledge. Before he made the jump, it occurred to his preoccupied mind that the woman's singing had stopped. It was then that he realize dhow high he was. He was only on the second story, but it felt like a long way down. Gazing back at Julia, he marshaled his courage and stepped out into thin air.

Down he fell, slamming into the ground with only a dead hedge breaking his fall. Pain flashed through his head a she heard something snap. He sat there for a second as he recovered his breath, then pulled himself to his feet and looked up at the window ledge.

"Come on," he said, holding his arms out.

Julia nodded in acknowledgement, and stepped out onto the ledge. Straightening, she was illuminated in the glow of the suns rays, casting her as an almost holy figure.

"Julia," whispered an awestruck Winston.

That image was shattered a second later by the ringing sound of a gunshot, and Winston's awe turned into horror as a bullet erupted from Julia's left breast. Silently, she crumbled, limply falling off the ledge and slamming into the ground below with a sickening thud in an action that seemed to take an eternity to the shattered Winston. He screamed as she fell, and crouched down to try and find a sign of life, anything at all, but it was obvious that Julia was dead.

He closed her eyes as he was wracked with sobs. Looking up at where Julia had stood, he was shocked to see Charrington there with a pistol. Goldstein had told him that Charrington was with the Thought Police, but seeing him there, that kindly old man who gunned down Julia in cold blood.

Any further weeping was was interrupted by what happened next. Behind him came an godawful noise, like a cross between ripping and a gunshot, and he whirled around to see the singing woman from before with some sort of rifle, shooting at the window. Looking back at where Charrington was standing, he was astonished to see the man moving at inhuman speeds, almost dodging bullets. But that wasn't possible...was it, though Winston.

"Smith, get a move on," yelled the woman in a cold voice. Winston looked back at her like a deer in headlights. She could tell his emotional reserves were gone and he would crash any second unless she acted fast.

"Damn it," she muttered, as she pulled him away from where Julia lay on the ground. Throwing him away, she yelled at him, "Unless you want to end up like her you run."

Winston looked at her, scared out of his wits, then took off running. The woman fired a burst at Charrington, then followed after him, while the Agent fired after her with his pistol.

Winston ran, he ran as he never had before. The pain from the varicose ulcer on his leg was nonexistent as he pounded down the streets of the Proletariat Areas, oblivious to the possibility of being stumbled on by the roving police patrols that ensured the Proles stayed in their place. Behind him he could hear the sound of gunfire, but it didn't register in a mind that was at this moment totally devoted to fleeing what he had seen in the courtyard.

His flight was brought to an abrupt halt by the appearance of Goldstein's face in front of him. At first Winston's dazed mind thought that Goldstein was there in person, but he then realized that Goldstein had somehow hijacked as telescreen so it showed his face instead of the usual picture of Big Brother.

"Winston, go left," said Goldstein, his head nodding in that direction.

Winston, grasping at the plank thrown to him, took off to the left. Whenever he came to another intersection, Goldstein would be waiting at that telescreen, directing him on. He could see as he ran that he was heading deeper into the Proletariat Zones, and the buildings got even more decrepit, if that was possible.

Finally, as his limbs caught up to the labor they had been performing and his lungs began burning from all the running, he found himself at the entrance to a buildings basement. He stood there, unsure of what to do next. His silence was interrupted by the arrival of the woman from the courtyard, who was carrying her rifle with the air of a veteran.

"Good, you made it," she said, and he could only nod in response. Moving over to the door, she rapped out a secret knock, and stood there as something bustled inside. A slit opened up in the door, and whoever was behind it got a good look at the woman, then snapped it shut.

Finally, the door opened, and the woman was let inside. She motioned for Winston to follow her, then went down herself. In the basement was a small pub, serving Victory Gin, and, to his alarm, containing a telescreen. His fear quickly abated when he saw the familiar picture of Goldsteins face.

"Yes, Mr. Smith, there is a telescreen here. It is mainly for appearances though, and the Thought police cannot plug into it, which allows us to work unmonitored. Now, down to business. I am very sorry about Julia. She certainly had promise in her, and her death must have affected you tremendously."

As Winston moved in front of the telescreen the woman took over talking. "Winston, we want you to join with us, to work with us to bring down Big Brother."

Winston looked at her in confusion. "But I already swore loyalty to the Brotherhood."

Goldstein gave a small chuckle. "Oh dear. Mr. Smith, O'Brien never worked for us in any way. He, like Mr. Charrington, is a member of the Thought police, whose purpose was to attract dissenters, making them easy marks for the Thought Police."

Winston's heart collapsed in his chest once again. He had thought that O'Brien was a kindred soul, someone who understood his struggles, who knew what he thought and approved, who shared his hatred of the system that ruled them all. With the knowledge that O'Brien had never been his friend, his mind turned to the book he had been given.

"And the book?"

"A fake, written by the Thought police as part of their deception, although it's analysis of this world is correct enough for our purposes. Now I must ask. Despite everything you have seen and heard, will you still work with us?"

Winston answered without a thought. "Yes. Julia must be avenged, and O'Brien and Charrington must pay for what they have done."

Goldstein gave a rueful smile. "If only it were as easy as the conviction in your voice makes it seem. We will now administer the pledge. Talia, if you will."

Talia moved in front of the telescreen and raised her left hand. Winston raised his right hand in response.

"Do you pledge to help the Brotherhood, the true Brotherhood that is, to overthrow the tyrannical system that grips this world?"

"I do."

"Do you pledge yourself to a possible life of endless toil and obscurity, where your work may be of vital importance to the Brotherhood, yet no one will ever know your name?"

"I do."

"Do you pledge yourself to the belief that all men are endowed with certain inalienable rights, among them life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness?"

Winston paused to think about that for a second, then responded, "I do."

"Do you pledge your solemn belief that a government exists for the people, by the people, and that when that government no longer serves the people, it is their right and duty to dissolve that government?"

"I do."

"Very well," said Goldstein. "Welcome to the Brotherhood. Now, I am sure that you will want to get some rest after your trying times this afternoon. Talia will show you to your temporary quarters. If you will excuse me, I have some pressing matters to attend to. Good day, Mr. Smith."

Goldsteins face was replaced with that of Big Brother as he cut the link, a chilling reminder of their current position in this society.

Talia walked over to the dart board on the wall, and pushed in the scoring zones in a coordinated manner, causing a section of the wall to open up. Looking around, Winston realized that every person currently in the pub must be a member of the Brotherhood, not that that wasn't pretty hard to figure out, seeing as it took a secret knock to get in. He just wondered how many of them were traitors or Thought Police Plants. Talia motioned to the entrance. "Come on Smith."

Winston walked over and stepped inside the hidden room. Talia followed him as the wall swung back into place in the quiet bar, where only the sound of the telescreen was audible.

As he entered the secret room, Winston was surprised to see that it was empty. Without looking back, Talia moved over to one of the corners, and reached down. Grasping a hidden seal, she lifted up part of the floorboard which had looked to Winston like concrete. She explained as she placed it down off to the side.

"With the Though Police bring so strong, we have to take multiple precautions. If we make it extremely hard to get to the actual secret base, they may give up before they reach it," she said as Winston walked over to her.

Looking into the hole, he saw that there was a short drop down, but there wasn't anything that looked like a ladder. Talia saw the train of his thoughts and mot5ioned to the side of the hole. "The ladder is drilled into the side of the hole here."

Leaning over further, Winston could see the holes in the wall that were used as ladders. Sighing, he clambered down the hidden ladder and looked down the tunnel as Talia closed the panel above him and climbed down as well. Winston, his adrenaline gone and exhaustion hitting him, followed after Talia as she led the way down the tunnel.

They emerged into a large common area, with bare walls, and some chairs and tables scattered around it. There were multiple tunnels leading into the chamber besides the one they had come out of. Talia pointed at each in turn as she rattled out where they led.

"Armory, command center, bunks, kitchen, showers."

Winston looked around in astonishment. "How did all this get built?"

Talia smiled. "It was all like this when we found it. We think it was a place to shelter guerrilla fighters if the Nazi's ever invaded during the Second World War. Do you remember that war?"

Winston's brow furrowed as he wracked his brain. "No, I remember the Revolution and the nuclear bombings, but not any war before that."

Talia shook her head. "Sorry for asking. The nuclear bombing and the Revolution were part of a different war. Though, with what the Ingsoc Party has done to history, it's a miracle that people still remember what day it is.

"Well, I'm sure the Party would like to destroy that too."

"Of course. Fortunately, people like you are here to stop them. Now, I suggest you get some sleep. We don't need you crashing, and you'll have a lot to do in the morning."

Winston nodded wearily and started towards the tunnel that Talia had pointed out to him earlier as leading to the sleeping areas. Before he entered the tunnel he looked back at Talia, who was standing near the middle of the room watching him.

"Talia," he asked. "How long have you been part of the Brotherhood?"

Talia looked surprised by the question. "Nine years. Why?"

"I just need to know what kind of devotion to this I'm going to have to match." Winston turned away and walked down the tunnel, leaving Talia standing there with a shocked expression on her face.

* * *

Goldstein's eyes snapped open as the metal plug connecting him to the ship's computers relinquished its hold over his mind.

"Welcome back sir," said his operator as he moved the chair back from it's recline into a sitting position.

"Thank you Iceberg. It's always good to wake up in the real world once again," replied Goldstein as he rose from the chair. He walked around to the bank of monitors that projected the Matrix, which was currently looking at the sleeping Winston.

Iceberg walked around him and sat down in the operator's chair. "So, this smith guy. You think we'll need to keep him in the Outer Circle?"

Goldstein frowned. "I don't know yet. I think we need to give him some more time to recover his mental and emotional strength. The knowledge that the world he lives in is a computer simulation designed to keep humanity in chains could destroy him."

Iceberg nodded in understanding, and redirected the image on the screen to the Ministry of Truth in London. "So, what are we doing next?"

"I think it is time to take the fight to the Thought police for once. We have been in hiding long enough. They need to have their feathers riled up. And although we cannot kill the thought police, we can do something even better. We can make them afraid." He frowned for a second as he thought of what they could do to show the thought police they were still a going concern. They hadn't done any major operations in a while, and he bet the Thought Police thought they were afraid to act. "Well, have Talia show Winston the ropes when he wakes up. And send a runner to contact Jigsaw. We'll need his help on this one."

"Right sir," replied Iceberg as he put the headset on and started typing on the keyboard in front of him.

Goldstein exited the Matrix room, as the crew called it, and walked through his ship towards the bridge, his mind contemplating actions they could take against the Thought Police. Taking a moment to rest his mind, he reached out his hand and brushed the interior side of his ships hull. He was one of the oldest captains in the fleet, having been with the Resistance from the beginning, and both he and the _Liberty Bell_showed their age. He had been through a lot of good fights against the Machines, and while his ship was battered, it was not broken, not by a long shot.

Stepping onto the bridge, he checked the radar to make sure that the other ten ships in his fleet were still there, then settled himself down in the Captains chair for some restive meditation. He liked to come up here to relax, since the _Liberty bell _felt like home to him, even more than Zion did.

As he leaned back with his eyes closed, he broke into a smile. An idea had just flitted int his mind, a good thought of what he could do. He sighed to himself. Yes, this was where he belonged. He wouldn't give it up for anything else, not even if he could go to a utopia.


	3. Chapter 3

Winston rubbed his closed eyes as he laid in the bunk that had been assigned to him. The bunks were carved into the walls of the room, and only had thin mattresses to protect the sleepers back from the cold cement bottom, with a lumpy pillow and a thin blanket as well. Winston supposed that the bunks were like this to keep their occupants out of a deep sleep.

The lights seemed glaringly bright to him and he tried, with little avail, to block them out with his blanket. This action did prevent him from seeing Talia come and stand next to his bunk. "Good morning Smith. Time for you to get up."

Winston groaned as his attempts to get more sleep were brought to an end. He sat up facing Talia, while making sure to not hit his head on the low roof of the bunk.

"First, you're going to freshen up a bit and get some breakfast, then we'll begin your training," said Talia. Winston nodded in agreement. He was having trouble keeping his eyes open, despite the fact that he had no idea what time it was or how long he had been there.

Winston sighed and hauled himself upright. He made his way to the bathrooms where there was a small pan of water for use as a sink. He splashed some of the water on his face to wake himself up, then made his way to the kitchen.

Inside the kitchen he was astonished to find Talia eating real food, instead of the Victory substitutes that everyone else ate. Talia smirked at him. "The Victory stuff they pass as food is barely good enough to keep you alive. If you're going to help us fight, then we need you able to do physical work, instead of at the physical starvation point."

As she took a bite of toast made from real white bread, Winston walked over to a coffee pot and poured himself a cup of –real- coffee, to which he added –real- sugar. As he made himself breakfast he asked Talia, "How did the Brotherhood get all this?"

"We steal it from the supply shipments that the Inner Party uses to get their food."

"Hm," said Winston, foregoing all talking in favor of eating the breakfast he had prepared.

When he finished his last piece of –real- bacon, Talia moved from the sink where she had been washing her dishes and placed them in the drying rack. "Alright. If you're done then we can head for the Armory.

Together, the two of them made their way from one set of tunnels to the next until they arrived in the armory. Inside it were racks of guns, melee weapons, and explosives. Winston looked about at all the weapons in amazement. "How did you get all this?"

"The same way we get food. Robbing army supply convoys."

Talia walked over to the racks and picked up a pistol, put it in her belt, then picked up a rifle. She opened a door on the far wall which led to a shooting gallery. "We'll start with the basics," she said as she motioned for Winston to go inside.

Stepping into the room, Winston could see that it extended a fair distance and that at the far wall was a set of paper targets. Near the door was a rack with ear protectors on it. Talia placed the weapons she had selected on the counter and went over to the rack, taking off two ear protectors.

She handed Winston one of the pair as she said," Put these on. They'll save your ears from the noise."

She put her own protectors on and picked up the pistol. Showing it to him, she took him through a lesson on how it worked, proper gun safety, and how to wield it. That done, she handed him the pistol so he could take some practice shots.

Winston felt the heavy weight of steel crafted into the lethal form of a gun settle in his hand. Hesitantly, he raised it and pointed it at the target downrange. When he pulled the trigger, the recoil nearly threw the pistol out of his hands, and he had to fumble to hold on to it.

"You need to watch out," said Talia. "The M1911 has a bit of a kick to it."

Winston glanced over at her as he raised the pistol back up. "I noticed."

Bracing himself for the recoil this time, he made three more shots in succession. When he put the pistol down, showing he was done, Talia pulled the rope to bring the target up to the counter. Winston was embarrassed to find that only one bullet had even hit the paper the target was on.

"Don't worry. You'll get better," said Talia as she replaced the paper with a new one and moved it back to the firing position.

Picking up the rifle, Talia repeated the procedure that she had used for the pistol, telling Winston how to use it, maintain it, and not have it blow his head off. Taking the rifle in his hands, Winston steadied himself for the recoil he expected, pointed the gun at the target, and pulled the trigger. The sound of the rapid fire that pounded into his head from the gun was registered by Winston's mind as the same sound from the courtyard, when he wasn't busy using all his strength to keep the gun aimed at the target. He only stopped firing when the magazine clicked empty.

Talia carefully took the rifle from his hands and placed it off to the side. The target showed that his aim was all over the place, meaning it was non-existent. "We'll work on that," said Talia as she took down the target and replaced it with a new one.

Reeling the target back into place, Talia handed Winston the pistol again. "Reload it," she said as she handed him a fresh magazine.

Fumbling, Winston managed to find the release for the magazine in the pistol, and had to bend over and pick it up as it missed his hand and clattered to the floor. Slamming the new magazine in, Winston took aim at the target once again and fired the pistol at it until the ammunition ran out.

Bringing the target forward, Talia saw that Winston's aim hadn't improved. "Well, we have time," she said as she handed him another magazine. "Let's try it again."

* * *

Winston looked nervously at the man in a surgical outfit. "So, what are you planning on doing?"

The doctor looked back calmly, trying to keep Winston from panicking. "While you are safe here at this time, the Thought police know what you look like and will be trying to locate you. For you to be of any use to the Brotherhood, we will need to change your appearance so the Thought Police will not recognize you. We have a series of surgeries prepared to alter your facial structure, your voice, and even some aspects of your skeletal structure. We will turn you into a whole new person."

Winston thought about that as he sat in the medical examination room of the underground shelter. It was clean, as clean as an underground room could be. The doctor looked skilled, and the cabinets were well stocked with various medical instruments. He did have a tough choice to make though. Although he would have the same personality, he would look like a totally different person. To balance that out was the fact that this was the only way for him to work with the Brotherhood and avenge Julia's death.

Finally, he made his choice. "I'll do it."

The doctor rose form his chair. "Very well. I will prepare the surgical team. Come back in about half an hour, and do not eat anything beforehand." He exited the room, leaving Winston alone feeling nervous.

He got up from the chair he had been sitting in and left the room, making his way through the tunnels to the central common area. Looking over the room, he saw a bookshelf with books on numerous topics filling it. He walked over and scanned the books on the middle shelf, looking for one that seemed interesting. Eventually, he pulled out a book titled _The History of the 20th Century_. Sitting down in one of the larger padded chairs, Winston started reading, and found himself drawn into the history of a world that Ingsoc would not allow him to know.

He was reading about the Great depression and the lead up to World War 2 when the doctor came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. "It's time."

Winston closed the book and placed it down on the chair beside his, then got up and followed the doctor back to the medical section of the bunker, where they entered the operating room. Inside was a group of men and women dressed in sanitational gear, with white gloves, apron, and mouth protectors.

The head doctor turned to face Winston. "We need to put you under for this. Are you ready?'

Winston nodded with certainty. "Yes."

The doctor took out a cloth with chloroform on it and put it up to Winston's mouth and nose, covering them so he had to breath through the cloth. Winston, resigned to being knocked out, struggled as little as possible. As he fell to the floor and his vision blacked out, he felt the doctor catch him and move him to the table.

* * *

Goldstein acted as casual as normal as he made his way up the apartment building's stairwell. The Brotherhood was going to be launching an attack, and Goldstein was moving to his own assigned position as part of the plan. He shifted the bundle on his back to a more comfortable position as he neared the roof.

Emerging onto the roof, Goldstein could see the pyramid shape of the Ministry of Truth close to the building he was on. He looked over at the roofs of the nearby buildings to see if the other Brotherhood members were in position yet.

When he received the signal that everyone was in position, he unraveled the bundle that he had placed on the ground in front of him and hoisted the rocket propelled grenade launcher onto his left shoulder. Lining up the RPG with one of the Ministry building's telescreen transmitter antennas, he pulled the trigger.

The launcher kicked back in his hands as the rocket flew towards the antenna set. At the same time, the other Brotherhood members fired their own RPG's. The multiple rockets lanced towards the building and slammed into the transmitters on the outside of the building.

As explosions echoed throughout the city, the ever present telescreens flickered and went dark. As they lay inactive, other members of the Brotherhood ran up and planted explosives on them. These explosions flared across the city and resulted in the destruction of many telescreens. The Brotherhood members then faded into the crowd of civilians as the Police patrols responded to the disturbances.

On the roof of the apartment building, Goldstein dropped the RPG launcher and made his way back into the building. Walking down the stairs from the roof, he snapped to alertness at the sound of running shoes on cement. Looking down, he saw a squad of police headed his way. Instead of continuing down the stairs to a confrontation, he opened the door of the landing he was on and headed deeper into the building.

Pulling out his cell phone, he snapped it open and dialed. "Operator,' said Iceberg's voice over the phone.

"Iceberg. There are police in the building. I need an exit."

"On it," said Iceberg as he went searching through the Matrix codes of the building blueprints. "All right, the nearest exit is two buildings over, third floor."

"Thanks," said Goldstein before hanging up. Then he moved rapidly to the stairwell on the opposite side of the building. Before he could reach it, he got another call. "What is it?"

"You've got Thought Police headed your way. I recommend using the roof."

"Thanks." Closing his cell phone, Goldstein ran for the stairwell he had left before as he pulled out an automatic pistol.

He slammed the door open to see the police about to reach his landing. He fired a burst at them from the automatic pistol and took off towards the roof. The police ran after him, no one noticing the rear man transforming into a man with a suit, a pistol, and sunglasses. Charrington looked up the stairwell and headed after the running police.

Goldstein reached the top of the stairwell and slammed open the door to the roof. Glancing back, his adrenaline gave him another boost at the sight of a member of the Thought Police coming up behind him. As Goldstein stepped on to the roof and shut the door, Charrington reached the top of the stairwell and fired his pistol at Goldstein, punching holes in the door but failing to score a hit.

On the roof, Goldstein ran away from the stairwell exit and quickly scanned the nearby building. He selected the one that had a roof closest to his height and took off running towards it. Nearing the edge, he noticed that bullets from Charrington's gun fly past him, but he ignored them and took a flying leap across the gap between the buildings.

The police watched in amazement as Goldstein, followed by the Thought Policeman, flew over the sizable gap and landed on the adjacent roof. Goldstein dodged as Charrington fired at him and started sliding down the fire escape. Going down a landing, he yanked the window open and swung inside.

Moving into the hallway, he was headed towards the stairs when the door on the right in front of him swung open and Charrington exited with his gun raised. Goldstein reacted quickly and slapped the gun to the side, deflecting Charringtons shot. He then unleashed a kick to the solar plexus, spinning from that into a right hook to the jaw, to a spinning jump kick. Recovering, Charrington blocked the right hook and dodged the spin jump kick. He hit Goldstein with a jackrabbit punch to Goldsteins chin, making him recoil back. Goldstein, looking for a way out, raised his automatic pistol and fired it at Charrington. As the Thought police member was busy dodging the bullets, Goldstein ran back the way he had come in. Hopping back onto the fire escape, he flipped over the railing on the side, launched himself from the fire escape, and smashed through the window a floor below on the opposite building.

Landing painfully, Goldstein forced himself to keep running. Slamming out of that room, he ran to the third room down the hallway, and threw that door open as well. As he entered, he pulled out his cell phone, hooked it to his charger, and plugged it in when he reached the outlet. The phone rang a second later, and Goldstein held it up to his ear as Charrington burst in.

The Thought Police member watched in anger as Goldsteins body disappeared before him. His anger quickly vanished, held in check by an iron discipline. This was only a small setback, and it would not delay the inevitable.

He activated his earpiece communicator and connected himself to the Source. "He got away," he said in a monotone voice.

"This changes nothing. We will have ample opportunity to catch and convert him, given his apparent return to activity."

Charrington nodded in response, then turned and walked out of the building. Before he did, he fired three shots into the outlet, destroying it.


	4. Chapter 4

Goldstein sat in the cockpit of the Liberty Bell as he flew the ship through the lower tunnels to Zion, the last refuge of humanity. Zion had been found by the initial members of the Resistance, who had been fleeing from the Machines. With hard work, they had built a major network of defenses to protect the city, and had rebuilt humanity.

As he approached, he activated the ships radio. "Zion Command, this is the Liberty Bell, we are on final approach."

"Roger that, Liberty Bell. Welcome back to Zion."

Inside the white control room of the Construct, the controllers operated the virtual computers that controlled Zion's defense mainframe. On the screens, the Liberty Bell could be seen approaching the defense lines. One by one, those defenses were directed to not regard the Liberty Bell as a threat.

Inside the Liberty Bell, Goldstein watched the defense line as it reconfigured to let his ship through. The heavy machine guns moved into resting positions, the missile launchers closed their storage flaps, and the electro-coils ceased humming.

Over the comm came the voice of Zion Command "Liberty Bell, you are cleared for Dock 4."

"Thank you Zion Command," responded Goldstein.

The Liberty Bell flew through the space where the heavy metal gate had been a minute or so before and entered Zion. The city was massive, extending for miles underground and containing the last free remnants of the human race. Powered by geothermal energy, this city was a work of human engineering that was unsurpassed in the old world. The only mystery was how the city had come to exist, as the historical records they had acces to made no mention of it. It seemed that it had almost appeared out of thin air. But whether it was some governments doomsday plan or just a great engineering project, its origins no longer mattered. The city had been added to by the Resistance, but the basic structure was still the same.

The Liberty Bell settled into the available dock that had been assigned to it at the top of the city. The repulsors which kept the ship afloat shut off as the vessel settled into its berth. Shutting everything down, Goldstein made his way to exit the ship with his crew.

Walking down the exit ramp, he was confronted by three guards. "So General Gates doesn't trust me to come of my own free will," asked Goldstein as he walked up to the lead guard, who stiffened to attention.

The guard replied uncertainly, "With all due respect sir, you have a reputation."

Golstein smiled at that. "That I do. Alright," he said, looking back at his crew. "Get the ship ready to go ASAP. I don't want to be out of the fight too long."

"Right sir," replied Iceberg.

Golstein turned back to face the lead guard. "Okay, lets go." The guard nodded and they headed off into the city, with Goldstein in the middle of a triangle formation.

* * *

Entering the cities military command center, Goldstein found it bustling with activity as it usually was. The banks of computers showed maps of the surrounding tunnels with the locations of Sentinel packs marked on them. In the middle of the room was a circle of chairs that held the people who were manning the city defenses in the Construct.

Ignoring all that, Goldstein and his escort headed directly to General Gates's office. Upon entering, Goldstein looked around and saw that it was the exact same as the last time he had been there, with the pseudo-wood desk, the sword mounted on the wall, and the picture of the planet from space which must have been taken before the war with the Machines.

Gates glanced up at Goldstein as he entered. Gates was of a moderate height, and American in ancestry. He had an eyepatch from when he had decided to have a swordfight with a Sentinel. Like Goldstein, Gates had been with the Resistance from the beginning. Unlike Goldstein, he was better at knowing when the appropriate time was for risky strategies. THis had resulted in his promotion to commander of all the Resistance military forces while Goldstein had stayed a Captain.

Gates stayed seated as Goldstein walked up to his desk. "Captain Goldstein."

Goldstein glanced down emotionlessly. "General Gates."

Gates motioned to the chair on the other side of the desk. "Please, sit down."

Goldstein slid the chair out and sat down in it. Gates put aside the paper he was reading, folded his hands, and looked at Goldstein.

"So Captain, lets talk about your recent actions in the Matrix. I understand that you and your network have launched several attacks on government installations within Airstrip One in recent days."

"Thats correct."

"You do recall that it has been our policy for the past year to not attack, so as to not provoke the Machines into destroying us once and for all."

"I do."

"So why are you jeopardizing the current detente, which is providing us with a chance to expand our fleet and increase our numbers?"

"Because they'll never let us live in have to make them remember that we re here, and that we will always be trying to free humanity from their grip. There is no detente, merely a waiting period before the Machines strike again. Sure, we can build some more ships, and increase the size of our forces a bit, but they can build thousands of Sentinels in the same time. This is just the calm before the storm."

"Regardless of what your opinion is, you have violated our policies. So why shouldn't I strip you of your rank and throw you in a penal battalion now?"

Goldstein smiled. "Because you owe me."

gates sighed. "You're never going to let me live the Battle of Zero One down, are you?"

Goldstein shook his head. "Nope. That was a dumb idea, even by my standards. I mean, have essentially our entire fleet attack the Machine City, betting on the fact that they wouldn't expect us to do something so suicidal? That takes a special kind of crazy. And we both know that I'm the reason that as many ships got out of there as there were."

"Fine," conceded Gates. "I suppose I have to listen to you for once. Not that I think you're wrong, but the Council likes the current situation. I can cover for you for a bit..."

"I don't need you to."

"Ah, it's not trouble. Just try not to do anything too stupid, okay?"

Goldstein stood back up. "Yes sir," he said as he saluted the General.

Gates stood up and returned the salute. "Dismissed."

Without another word, Goldstein turned around and left the office as Gates went back to his paperwork.

* * *

Winston floated in a sea of dreams and memories. It was pleasant, not at all what he expected a medically induced coma to feel like. He saw his mother, Julia, and the images of his entire life until that point flashing before his eyes. He knew he wasn't in any imminent danger of dying, but this helped him to cope with the events of recent days.

Then, something truly strange and terrifying happened. His eyes flew open, as if he was awake, but instead of seeing the grey walls of the bunker, he found himself floating in a red, liquid filled tube. A breathing apparatus was attached to his face, and numerous wires were connected to different points in his body. But before he could panic, he closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he could only see darkness.

"Smith, are you awake," asked a familiar voice.

Winston blinked, but he still couldn't see anything. Reaching up to his face, he felt a cloth over his eyes. when he moved to take it off, he was stopped by the person who had spoken on his left side.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Your last operation included a retinal transplant. Taking the bandage off may cause complications, such as permanent blindness."

Winston nodded imperceptibly, it being painful to move his head. "So, Talia, is it done?"

"Yes. No one will recognize you. It was a bit hard for me, in fact. We'll need to keep the bandages on for a week or so until you've healed from the surgery."

Winston laid on the bed for a bit, then asked, "So what next?"

"Well, once you're ready, we're going to move you out of here. Despite the surgery, we can't risk anyone recognizing you. Fortunately for us, the different parts of Oceania don't talk much."

Winston's eyes widened underneath the bandages. "You mean..."

"Yes, you're going to America. The Northern half. You'll meet another cell there and they'll have you do jobs for us."

"How'm I going to get to America?"

"we've worked out a way to get you across on a transport. It leaves in three days."

"But...the bandages."

"They wont matter. we're passing you off for a wounded veteran. too injured for the front, but the wound isn't life threatening. you're returning to your hometown to help make war materials. The cell on the other end will help you get assimilated."

Winston was silent for a couple minutes, then spoke up. "Thanks."

"Eh, its nothing. Helping you helps us. We're just working to bring about the revolution that will take this place down."

"Right," mumbled Winston, and he fell back into peaceful sleep.

* * *

The next time he woke up, he felt the surface that he was resting on tilting and rocking. He figured out quickly that he must be on the boat that they were using to send him to America.

Winston groaned. "Wha..What?"

Someone commented from off to the side, "Hey, the wounded warrior is awake." Winston could hear rustling as the person moved around.

"Apparently they've kept you drugged for the pain. You must be important, I haven't seen them do that for anyone else I've shipped."

"I didn't do that much, just my duty to Big Brother and Oceania," lied Winston.

"Of course," grunted the man. Winston heard a cap coming off of a bottle of what Winston assumed was Victory Gin. The man poured himself a cup before he continued. "So, where you headed?"

Winston paused before answering. He wasn't sure how much the man had been told, or the names of places in America, for that matter. "Industrial Region 3, formerly the Great Lakes region."

"Okay, well, I hope you enjoy it there."

"Thanks."

The man walked over to Winston and placed a cup in his hands. "So heres a drink. To big Brother!"

"To Big Brother," echoed Winston weakly, and he took a sip from the cup. the victory gin must have reacted with some of the drugs left in his system, as shortly after he lapsed back into sleep.

* * *

After some turbulent dreams, he was woken up by the man from before. Winston noticed that he still had the bandages on.

"C'mon. Get up. We're here."

Winston cautiously stood up, but he had to stop himself because of the dizziness from the blood flowing out of his head. Then the man grabbed his arm.

"Here. Lets go."

Walking in tandem with the man, Winston slowly made his way off of the boat. the scariest and hardest part was walking down the creaking wooden gangplank. the man had to lead him, and Winston had to trust his balance to keep from falling off. Eventually he did make it down and moved out of everyone elses way.

"Well, here's goodbye then," commented the man who tromped off leaving Winston quite alone.

Blind, Winston just had to trust that someone from the Brotherhood would show up here. while he was waiting, he he noticed that his hearing had improved from the lack of eyesight. this allowed him to hear more of the bustle of the docks and the movement of people. He was becoming lost in the sounds when he heard someone approach.

"Winston Smith?"

Winston nodded.

"Good. I was sent to get you by a mutual friend. He welcomes you to America. Now, come with me, if you please."

Winston nodded while holding out his hand. the other man grabbed hold of it, and together, they made their way into the bustling city.

As Winston walked through the city, he could hear people all around him, hurrying as they headed to destinations around the city. It was so much different from London, where people suffered under fear from the daily rocket bomb attacks. Without sight, it seemed like a city that might have existed before the revolution. Of course, he knew that it wasn't, knew that only the Inner Party and the military drove the cars that he occasionally heard, but he could imagine.

He felt them duck off the main road into an alley. They went down it a bit of a ways, then stopped. The man moved and rapped on the door, The man muttered darkly when the door went unanswered.

"Typical. He knew we had a dropoff today, so of course he isn't here."

Winston listened as the man pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He was then led inside and sat down in a chair. In the background he could hear the dim sound of a telescreen, presumably another fake one.

"Alright, lets take these bandages off," said the man, who walked up behind Winston and carefully cut the bandages then slowly lifted them off. Winston was blinded by the sudden influx of light to his eyes, and he had to slowly adjust to being able to see again.

When he could see again, he found himself in a room that looked very much like his own back in London, except this one was a bit less dirty. On the telescreen, industrial reports of exceeded quota's were being shown.

"Welcome to main Oceania Mr. Smith. I'm John. John Preston," said the man as he walked back around from the table where he had returned the scissors, and pulled out a mirror. "I bet you're anxious to see your new face. Most people are."

Winston grabbed the mirror with shaking hands and was stunned by his new face. He ran his hand down his left cheek, which was adorned by an impressive scar, and past his altered nose. In addition, his hair had been subtly dyed black to make him look a tad younger. The most disturbing change though, were his eyes. They were now a dark green, where before they had been blue. If he had had a full body mirror to look in, he was sure he would not have recognized himself.

"Thank you," said Winston as he handed back the mirror.

"No problem," replied Preston as he took it back and returned it to the drawer he had gotten it from. "There's a fresh set of clothes on the table. You can change in the bathroom."

Winston nodded as he went over to the table and picked up the clothes that Preston had for him. They looked much like his own, except they were subtly different, probably due to the different location. He put them on after a bit of difficulty, mostly with regards to his altered height.

When he was ready, he walked back to the kitchen where Preston was cooking something. "alright, I suppose you're hungry after that long trip."

"Now that you mention it..."

Preston smiled and slid over a plate with pancakes and a sausage. Winston dug in, his hunger recovering from the drugs that had kept him asleep and free of pain. The food tasted great, even though he knew that it was basically the same as the food back in Airstrip One.

When he had finished, Preston took the plate and put it on the counter. As Winston washed the food down with some Victory Coffee, he heard a knock on the door.

Preston walked over and yanked the door open. He spoke softly to the person who had knocked, but Winston couldn't see who it was from his vantage point. Then, as Preston came walking back with his visitor, Winston's eyes widened in surprise.

"Goldstein."

Goldstein smiled and shook Winston's hand. "Hello Mr. Smith, we finally meet in person."

Winston nodded with a stunned expression on his face. He never thought he would actually meet the head of the Resistance. "It's an honor."

"I'm sure. Mr. Preston, watch the door if you would be so kind."

"Yes sir." Preston took a pistol out of another drawer, and went to sit in the main room.

"Preston is one of my lieutenants," said Goldstein as he sat down opposite Winston. "He's very good at what he does."

"Isn't it dangerous for you to be here? What if the Thought Police catch you?"

"Everywhere is dangerous for me, but I have many ways of getting around. Now, I wanted to meet you in person and see how you were doing. You certainly had one of the most traumatic entrances into the resistance I've seen. So, how are you doing?"

"Well, I'm in a new place, and I've had surgery to alter my face. It's going to take some getting used to."

"That it will. You'll be staying here for a bit so you can get adjusted to the surgical changes and so you can learn everything you need to know about where you are going. Once we think you are ready, we will send you out to help the Resistance. You probably wont do much, of course. Some recruitment, maybe a bit of sabotage. Enough to show the Resistance is still around while not bringing a crushing response down on yourself by the Thought Police."

Winston nodded in acceptance. "Sounds fine. But I want to make a major impact in the fight."

"I know, you wish to avenge Julia. The time will come when this tyranny comes crashing down and people will be free again. But it will not be for many years. Every action you take against them, every person you turn, brings that day a bit closer. Even if the triumph does not come in your lifetime, rest assured that what you do for us will bring about justice for Julia and the countless others that have been killed by the Party."

Winston sighed. He wasn't satisfied by Goldstein's answer, but he understood the point the man was trying to make. "Alright."

Goldstein stood up. "Nevertheless, I am glad to have you with us. Now, I have very little time left, so I must be going." As he walked out, he looked over at Preston. "See you in the near future Mr. Preston."

Preston closed the door behind Goldstein and put the gun back in its drawer. He then walked over to Winston. "You're a lucky man Mr. Smith. Goldstein doesn't visit just everyone."

"I bet, but why does he think I'm so important?"

"We'll find out in time, I suppose."

* * *

A/N: Find the movie reference, get a cookie.


End file.
